A Matter of Life and Death
by Little Ghost14
Summary: Severus Snape thinks he's dying. But he's thrown back in time to the age of 11 with no memories at all of his old life. The only clues he has are the nightmares that come every night. Clues he must unravel if he is to prevent a future catastrophe and stop history repeating itself and losing his love all over again. But with two extremes fighting for him, which path will he take?


**Summary: **Time travel, AU fic. Struck down by Nagini, Severus knows he is dying. After fighting the inevitable long enough to impart those all-important memories to Harry Potter, he slips into death filled with thoughts of the woman he loved – Lily. He thinks it's the end, but it's only the end of the beginning. He wakes in the past with no memory of what happened in his old life, he is plagued by nightmares and flashbacks his eleven year old self cannot explain. He must work it out in time to stop history repeating itself and prevent another war. It is a chance at redemption, although he's fighting blind. He can become a different man, but with warring factions fighting for his soul, which path will he take?

**Disclaimer: I own none of this. All is the property of JKR and Warner Brothers.**

* * *

**Chapter One: In the End**

It was all over in a heartbeat. After the drawn out agony of his meeting with the Dark Lord, the snake, Nagini, lashed out like the crack of a whip, deadly fangs sinking into the soft flesh of his throat. Then, Severus was alone on the floor of the Shrieking Shack; blood seeping into his collar as he tried in vain to staunch the flow. His strength was ebbing fast; blood freezing as the venom coursed through his veins. It was the end and there was no room left in his mind for kidding himself otherwise. After a second, his hand fell limp at his side, fingers dripping poisoned blood into the cracked floorboards and his eyelids grew leaden.

_This is it_, he thought to himself, _it's almost over now. _

Sounds drifted in from far away – a distant battle being fought, and he managed to open his eyes one last time. Directly above him, he peered at Harry Potter through the haze of his failing eyesight. He would have been surprised, if he had had the strength left in him. But, in his final frantic moments, all he could think of was the information he desperately needed to impart. Even now the memories came easily; they had been haunting him for seventeen years.

"Take … it," he whispered.

Potter's partner in crime appeared, Granger. She was making futile efforts to save him – despite everything that had passed between them over the years. Potter merely frowned at him in confusion; confusion that melted away fast as the silver mist of the past clouded the air. The life and turbulent times of Severus Snape.

"Take it," Snape urged him again.

Once again, it was Granger who saved the day with a conjured glass vial. In the meantime, the memories kept coming, taking something of his life force with them and draining him further. For old time's sake, he tried to think of some final insult or parting shot for the student whose very existence had been a special kind of torment for him. Instead, all he wanted was something entirely different.

"Look … at … me," he whispered as the last of the silver threads leaked from his mouth. The effort of his final words cost him was left of his strength. But, emerald green eyes met the dark, locking into each other. James Potter's son vanished from view; Lily Evans took his vacant place. It was she he thought of as he slipped into an impenetrable darkness. Purged of so many memories, he could pretend the past never happened and immerse himself fully in the ghost of her for one final time. Lily Evans: so vivid; so alive.

* * *

It was warm and getting warmer. Severus couldn't even begin to estimate how long he'd been unconscious for, but it didn't feel like long. He had only just begun to get himself comfortable there. But he felt himself being nudged again. He rolled over and tried to ignore it. Somehow, it didn't feel fair. He'd done his bit, played his part and now, he couldn't even rest in peace.

"Severus."

It sounded like Dumbledore. A sudden flicker of anger jolted him upwards, further towards the surface of his consciousness. He sat up sharply, gasping for breath as though he'd been deep under water. As he struggled to regain control of his breathing, he took a long look at the room he found himself in. It was so white it was almost insubstantial. An old fashioned hospital ward was what it looked like. He was in an iron framed bed, covered in a thin white blanket. Dumbledore smiled at him from a seat beside the bed. Severus looked at him, a frown creasing his brow. He should have known that not even in death would he ever escape this man.

"Great plan, Albus," he said, voice heavy with sarcasm. "You better hope Potter has the presence of mind to actually look at those memories-"

Severus cuts himself off, realising that the older wizard may not be granted the gift of omnipotence in death. But, there's a knowing twinkle in those old, blue eyes.

"Even now you underestimate him, Severus," he said. "He will look."

His anger will not serve him here, not in these circumstances. He had never invested much thought in the afterlife. He had never been one for philosophical chats about whether there even was an afterlife. Now that he's here, talking to a man who's been dead for nearly a year, he can scarcely begin to form a solid opinion of it.

"What now?" he asked quietly, looking around again. "Is this it?"

"Is this ever it? Especially for a man like you, Severus. Layer upon layer…"

Dumbledore answered with a question – something that had always annoyed him in life.

"I think we can dispense with the cryptic clues, Albus."

Still maddeningly smug in his own superior knowledge, Albus simply smiled. He was dressed in white robes of a fine material, one hand resting on the bed. It was better now. No longer maimed.

"Now, where's the fun in that, Severus?"

Another question. He tried to swing his legs out of the bed, until he realised he was naked. On second thoughts, he remained where he was. "This is not what I … expected," he commented, even though he couldn't actually say what he did expect.

"I'll tell you what I once told a mutual friend of ours," Dumbledore said, leaning forwards slightly. "To the well organised mind, death is but the next great adventure. My plan was better than you think, Severus. You'll find that out yourself once you've had some rest. Whatever you choose to do next, choose wisely… for all our sakes."

Before Severus could ask what he was on about, Albus placed one hand on his forehead. With a strength that surprised him, the older man pushed him back down to the bed and muttered an incantation he couldn't make out. The darkness closed over him like someone had flicked a switch and there was nary time to draw breath.

* * *

_That was a strange dream_, he thought to himself as his eyelids fluttered. He tried to sit up, but his head felt light and dizzy. Giving up, he sank back down in bed, where his head hit something hard. Somewhere in the distance, a frantic girl's voice cried out in alarm. He blanked her as he tried to figure out where he was. A cool breeze swept over his face, fanning his hair off his face. He opened his eyes again and winced against the bright sunlight.

"Wh-what happened?" he stammered, even though there was no one around.

He was in the park, not in bed as he assumed. The swings were empty, but a red haired girl was dashing across the playground, crying his name. Her dark haired sister hot on her heels, trying to rein her in. He tried to stand up, to run and meet Lily half way, but his limbs felt like they were made of lead and he lay there, immobilised and helpless. _How did I get here?_ He wondered. One minute he was … his thoughts trailed off as he struggled to remember what he had been doing, and drew a blank.

Breathless and dishevelled, Lily fell to her knees at his side. Her twin braids were loosening, stray strands of auburn hair blowing free in the breeze and a fine sweat beaded her pale brow. Green eyes, darkened in a frown, searched him imploringly, fear etched in her expression.

"Sev!" she gasped, clutching at his jacket. "Sev … what happened?"

He tried again to remember what he had done. But there was nothing. He knew where he was, who he was talking to and what he probably should be doing. But he had no knowledge of how he came to be here.

"I … I had a dream," he muttered, still pinned to the grass by some unseen force. "There was an old man in it, in a white hospital room. I … I can't remember anything else."

Lily didn't reply straight away. She knelt as comfortably as she could on the uneven ground and continued to look over him, placing one small hand on his brow to check his temperature. Behind her, Petunia caught finally caught up and looked down at them with an expression of profound disapproval on her face.

"Was it something magical?" Lily asked, dropping her voice.

Severus' gaze flicked over to Petunia who winced against the word 'magical'. Her long nose wrinkled as if the word itself stank. His whole body was beginning to tingle, as though the strength was finally starting to return to him. After a small struggle, he managed to sit up in the long grass, with some help from Lily.

"Dreams are just dreams," he said, sotto voce. "I can't remember what happened, though. What was I doing? How did I get here?"

Lily bit her lip as he spoke, looking even more worried.

"You said your neck was hurting and you turned white," she explained. "Then you sort of passed out. I told Tunie to stay with you while I ran for help-" she broke off to cast a dark look over her shoulder, towards Petunia – "but of course, she didn't. I couldn't see anyone and came running back when I saw that Tunie had left you. I found you like this. Can you remember anything? What were we doing yesterday?"

Severus frowned as he tried to remember. Everything felt so long ago, and he couldn't explain why it was so. Fear coiled around his heart as the truth sank in: he could remember almost nothing. Slowly, he shook his head.

"We went to Diagon Alley," she whispered, leaning in close. He could feel her breath tickling his ear as she spoke. "We went to get our books for school."

Her reminder jolted the memory back into him and relief flooded over him in a wave. He could recall the place, the higgledy-piggledy shops and buildings over-hanging the crowded, cobbled streets. Lily had been chomping at the bit to get into everything.

"Yes," he sighed. "Yes, I remember that now. We're starting on Monday, aren't we?"

Lily smiled now, relieved that he seemed to be returning to himself.

"That's right!" she exclaimed with a clap of her hands.

"All the excitement of going to that freak school of yours must be making your brain explode," Petunia chipped in sourly from over Lily's shoulder.

He had almost forgotten Petunia was still there. But, in her own grumpy way, she had offered the most likely explanation for his predicament. Lily thought so, too.

"She's right," she concurred, standing up and holding a hand out to him. "You need to go home and get some sleep. I'm only surprised that I'm not the one passing out with excitement. I can't wait to get to Hogwarts!"

In the time that they had been talking, the sun had begun to sink behind the old mill. Dusk settled over their town fast, now that summer was drawing to a close. He managed to stand up, but Lily had to support him. Petunia's explanation began to seem weak – as weak as him – but it was all he had to rationalise what had occurred. By the time they reached his home, on Spinner's End, it was growing dark and cold outside. Lily released one hand and knocked as loud as she could on the front door of the small terrace. Once again, Severus was struck with the feeling that it had been a long time since he last saw his parents. But, in reality, it can't have been more than a few hours.

His wonderment was brought to an abrupt halt as hurried footsteps approached the door from the other side and it was wrenched open. Tobias Snape glowered at them through the aperture for a long moment, before grabbing Severus by the scruff of his neck and hauling him inside.

"Where the hell have you been?" he demanded angrily, spittle flying from the corner of his mouth. He smelled of stale beer. A sour gust of it hit Severus as his father slammed the front door shut on the girls. It made Severus feel queasy, adding to the pain of the blow that caught him across the left cheek. The force of it knocked him sideways, he had to struggle to remain upright. He righted his posture and jumped to the stairwell that led to the first floor. Somehow, he'd managed to almost forget his father could be like this.

At a safe distance, Severus drew himself up to full height and looked back at his infuriated father, scowling in contempt.

"What do you care?" he shot back. "You spend your whole life lost in a bottle, it's just that no one cares!"

His father's complexion turned purple with rage, a vein throbbed in his neck as he reached to unbuckle his belt.

"Why, you little-"

Severus turned and ran all the way up to his bedroom before Tobias could finish and sentence and slammed the door shut. He dragged a heavy chair over to the door and propped it up under the handle, barricading himself securely against any unwanted intrusions. Once secure, he crawled under the bed, letting the darkness underneath close over and conceal him as his father's fists pounded on the door, making it rattle and shake in its frame.

"Open up, now!" his father's voice boomed loud enough to wake the dead. "Open. This. Door!"

Severus curled up as tight as possible and blocked his ears. He regretted not having the foresight to pull his duvet under with him, but he would fetch it as soon as his father grew bored and went away. Soon enough, his mother's softer voice joined the verbal fray outside, demanding to know what was going on. The argument was diverted and the angry voices retreated down the outside hallway, leaving Severus alone.

With relative harmony restored, Severus felt safe enough to roll out from under his bed to undress and retrieve his duvet. As he worked away, his mind drifted back to the events of the day, or what he could remember of them. Everything felt like he was only just remembering everything. He only just remembered that if he kept his head down and mouth shut, his father would basically ignore him and now he probably had a sound thrashing coming his way. He only just remembered that he went to Diagon Alley once Lily had reminded him, and that they were starting school in a few days. Everything felt distant and disjointed and he had no real explanation for any of it. It troubled him. It still troubled him as he curled up beneath his bed, burying himself in the duvet to ward off the early autumn evening chills. He was, however, thankful for the warm pyjamas his mother had bought for him for when he started Hogwarts. Already, they had the serpent of Slytherin stitched into the front where a pocket would be. Everyone in his family had been sorted into Slytherin and he would be no different, of that he was sure.

It all left him exhausted. Soon, he felt himself drifting off into a natural sleep despite the youth of the hour. Despite the muffled shouts and thumps drifting up from the living room, as well as the sure knowledge that his father would still be furious with him. The dreams began almost immediately: a sequence of images, people he did not know in places he did not recognise. They flashed past so fast he could not pin them down or make out the details. Then, finally, a snake lashed out of nowhere, goaded by a hideous man speaking Parseltongue and he awoke with a start, hitting his head on the underside of his bed. He stifled a curse and lay back down, confused and bewildered by all that was happening.

"They're just dreams; dreams cannot hurt me," he whispered into his duvet, with more conviction than he really felt.

* * *

**Author's Note: thank you for reading this, my first attempt at a Harry Potter fanfic. Feedback would be much appreciated. **


End file.
